Miserere Nobis
by s0ulm8
Summary: The Title is ecclesiastical Latin for 'have mercy on us'. Prequeal to Adagio For Strings. Chloe's history catches up with her as she desperately tries to save the life a young girl caught in a web of human trafficking.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter One**_

"Dr. Chase, a word please," she was breaking up the huddle, annoying a certain brilliant, but, shall we say, acerbic department head.

"We're busy," said department head squibbed.

"My busy is more important than your busy," she replied calmly.

"Hey, we're saving lives here!" His voice was taking on that familiar higher pitch.

"So… am… I," she hissed, giving him the look that told him to back off, at least for the moment.

Dr. Robert Chase broke away from the small group in the hallway and approached the interloper. "What is it, Chloe?" She rarely addressed him specifically and he was curious as to what would have caused her to take the risk of defying his boss.

Chloe Marzhal, night shift charge nurse of the 3rd floor Medical/Surgical Overflow unit at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, was on temporary day shift duty due to another staffing crisis. An obligation she would rather not have, but was stuck with. She took his arm and guided him to a quiet place down the hall. Away from prying ears.

"Dr. Chase, I have a patient you may be able to help. Her name is Esi Dagomba. She was admitted yesterday under unusual circumstances. She was found outside the emergency department, seemingly having been dumped there after a particularly vicious physical attack. She's from Ghana. Her English is quite good, but she doesn't say much and we can't get a decent history on her. I don't believe she's more than sixteen." Her words were clipped, her tone serious and concerned.

"Is there a diagnostics problem?" Chase asked.

Chloe took a deep breath and continued, "No, she has at least three STIs which are being treated in addition to treatment for the trauma she sustained. Physical difficulties aren't the problem."

Chase was truly puzzled. "What do you need from me?"

"It is my understanding," she began, choosing her words carefully, "that you have something of a working knowledge of BDSM." She looked at him, judging the impact of her words.

Chase backed up a bit, a quizzical look crossing his face. "What's this about, Chloe?"

She patted his arm, trying to calm him, "I have a strong suspicion that this young woman is a victim of human trafficking. I've spent quite a long time with her, hoping to build trust. However, as a woman, I can't quite get her to tell me that which is most important." She paused, "That's where I need your help. If you could join with me in a frank conversation with her, I think she would open up. I don't think you'd have to say a word, just be there."

"Are the police involved? What about social services?" Chase was, indeed, intrigued, though a little embarrassed. His 'working knowledge' of bondage/discipline//dominance/submission//sadomasochism was limited, but he knew and understood the basics.

"Social services has spoken to her, but didn't get very far, the police have not been called in as yet, she's terribly frightened and won't allow it."

"Alright, give me a minute." She nodded and waited as Chase returned to the huddle and made his excuses to his boss.

"I'll run the tests and get back to you." The voice that answered him was even higher pitched and angry. Chase spoke a few low words and the sniping stopped. Chloe noted with some satisfaction the raised eyebrows all around the little group.

"Today!" Dr. Gregory House shouted at Chase, turning to limp back down to the elevators, Drs. Foreman and Cameron trying to keep up.

"Whose toes am I stepping on, here, Chloe?" Chase was referring to Esi's admitting physician.

"Dr. Albert, need I say more?"

Chase chuckled. Albert would welcome anyone 'consulting' on his cases as he couldn't make up his mind about anything. "Okay, Chloe, lead on." Chase smiled at her conspiratorially.

They walked down the hall to the end room. Chloe knocked gently on the door, then entered, Chase following. The bright eyes shining from the hospital bed grew wide, then averted to her hands, which were lying quietly in her lap. Her chocolate brown skin shone in the dim light, her many long braids draped across her shoulders. Chase positioned himself in the far corner of the room where Esi could see him. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, never taking his eyes off her, a look of studious disdain on his face. "Esi, this is Dr. Chase, he's my good friend and he has much medicine, I'd like you to tell him what you told me. We'd like to help you and your family, Esi. Please let us help you." The frightened girl darted a look at Chase. His head nodded ever so slightly, granting her permission to speak.

"The Man came to our village one day, with stories of a better life in America. He spoke to all the parents and elders and they agreed to choose seven of us to accompany him. He promised to educate us and send us back to our families with the skills needed to help our village."

Chase raised his hand slightly and Esi stopped speaking immediately, averting her eyes again. "Esi, who taught you your English?" She whispered into the air, "the nuns." Chase tilted his head, "Did they know about the Man?" Esi simply shook her head 'no'.

Chloe had knelt beside Esi's bed and reached out to hold her hand. "There's a contract, isn't there, Esi?" The poor girl looked at Chloe with wonderment, like a small child who's just had a quarter 'pulled' out of her ear, but she looked to Chase before daring to answer. He nodded his head again, marveling himself at Chloe's knowledge base.

"How did you know?" Esi whispered.

"Do you have it with you?" Chloe's heart was breaking for this child.

"Yes, I must always keep it with me. It's a rule." Chase tried hard to hide his disgust.

"May we see it?" Esi hesitated and looked to Chase again.

"I'd like to see it, Esi."

She produced the much-folded paper from her meager belongings which consisted of not much else than the clothes she was found in. Chloe took it from her and standing, unfolded it and presented it to Chase. Neither one could hide their shock when they saw the name of The Man.

Chloe breathed, "Jason Adler, oh my God."

_**Chapter Two**_

Jason Adler prided himself as being a self-made businessman. He owned a string of strip clubs all up and down the eastern seaboard. His tastes were expensive and extravagant. From his Giorgio Armani suits and Dolce & Gabbana accessories to his palatial homes, the man stunk of money. Ugly money.

More than one ex-wife had mysteriously 'disappeared' when she became bothersome, as had many of his female playthings. Yet, charges were never brought, nor sanctions taken. The man was seemingly untouchable. And dangerous.

He had grown up in the mean streets of New Jersey, learning his trademark terrorism from the best of the best. He had more than his fair share of physical scars, including a nasty one which ran from his left ear down to his right collarbone. If you asked him, he would tell you he received it while being tortured for information on his boss, implying that he valued loyalty above all things.

Truth? A prostitute, who later 'disappeared', got tired of his abuse and took a knife to him. She should have aimed lower, or dug deeper.

Needless to say, Mr. Adler was involved in most of Northern New Jersey's naked underbelly of crime. One of his most lucrative 'businesses' was prostitution. He owned several 'houses of ill-repute' including a large one right on the outskirts of Princeton. This particular house was an old Victorian structure, massively built by someone with a lot of money a long time ago. It boasted three floors, an attic which had once housed servants, and a full-sized basement. The house stood on four acres of land and was equipped with riding stables (no longer used as such) and two guest houses. The entire property was surrounded by high fencing which, so far, no one had ever dared breach.

On the outside, the structure appeared stolid and conservative. Painted a cadet blue with a wrap around porch and all the standard gingerbreading of a period Victorian home. Inside was another matter entirely. Imagine every seedy stereotype of a brothel you can imagine and multiply that by a factor of, oh say, a hundred and you'd have a glimpse of the interior. Each room was decorated in a different 'theme' ranging from Elvis Presley velvets to Hugh Hefner hot tubs to Madonna faux S&M.

The real S&M took place in the basement. You had to be a member to be admitted to that little den of iniquity, the price you paid being part, if not all, of your soul. Which explained Mr. Adler's untouchable status. More than one police chief or politician had visited the dungeon.

This is where the human trafficking came into it. Mr. Adler was a modern day slave trader. Pure and simple. He bought girls in third world countries and shipped them to the states for his own and others' personal use. After first training them in one of his dungeons, of course.

_**Chapter Three**_

"Chloe, we have to get this to the police, this is an incredible piece of evidence!" They were back out in the hallway after calming and thanking Esi for her cooperation. "Listen, I know a guy at Immigration, he's a lawyer, he'll be able to steer this in the right direction."

Chloe nodded, "You'll have to do this fast. Who knows when he'll send someone to reclaim her? My guess is he'll want her signed out AMA. She's just a child, Robert! He'll kill her!" She was distraught. This was big.

Taking a deep breath, she collected her thoughts. "Alright, we've got to notify administration and risk management. The hospital may be able to score some brownie points by protecting this girl. Human trafficking has become a regulatory catch phrase lately." She looked at his shocked face. "Robert, I've been doing this job a long time. I'm cynical and I admit it. House is right about one thing: everyone and every entity does what's in his, her, or its best interest and this hospital is no different. You make your call and I'll start up the chain of command. You might even want to make that call from Dr. Cuddy's office." Her eyebrow shot up. He agreed and started off down the hall. "Dr. Chase!" Chloe called after him. "Was there some tests you wanted to order on another patient up here?" He turned around and as quickly as he could, scribbled orders on a chart and handed it to her. "I'll take care of it myself," she reassured him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Little Lord Fauntleroy returning from doing his Auntie's errands," House oozed sarcasm like it was a second skin. Looking a little rougher than usual, his deep salmon-colored shirt hadn't seen an iron in over a year and Chase could swear he'd slept in those jeans and jacket. He was seated at his desk, tossing his oversized tennis ball back and forth and appeared to have been doing so for some time. There was nothing but malice in his grin. Chase had an air of aplomb about him that House didn't like one bit. He watched his fellow grab a cup of coffee and seat himself comfortably at the conference room table, flipping open the chart of the patient they had been discussing earlier that morning. "The tests you had me run are all negative. We're back to square one." Cameron moaned and Foreman clutched his head like it was going to explode.

House hobbled out of his office toward the white board. "So what does that tell us? They went through the long list, House crossing out first this then another disease. They wrestled with the differential diagnosis for a quarter hour, finally deciding on another round of different tests. The three rose to leave on their various missions. House eyeballed Chase. "Chase, stay here for a minute." Chase rolled his eyes at the others then turned to face his boss.

"What did Chloe want?" House had known Chloe for a long time and, although he would mock her from here to down the street and back when she challenged him like she had, all too often, she'd be closer to being right than he would. He hated the term 'feminine intuition', but if anyone had it, it was Chloe.

"A Ghanaian teenager brought here as a sex slave. Chloe had guessed it and she was right. The girl even had a 'contract' signed by the guy who bought her from her family." Chase paused, "I've been in Dr. Cuddy's office with the hospital's legal team. Everyone from local police to the FBI is on red alert. Chloe is afraid the bastard will come back to claim his property."

"So who is this slave trader?" Asked House.

"Jason Adler was the name on the contract," replied Chase. House whistled in his teeth. Then he got really still, his face turning inward as it does when he's thinking hard. "She's truly walked into it this time, hasn't she?" He said, almost to himself.

"You mean Chloe? Why would she be in danger?"

House looked at Chase like one would look at a stupid child. "She's deliberately put herself between this guy and his 'property'. I'm guessing he's not going to like the publicity. She just couldn't leave it alone, could she?"

Chase spread his hands out in front of him, a look of exasperation on his face. "What else could she do, for Christ's sake? Here's a young girl in a foreign country, no family, no friends, alone… being used in the most horrendous way. By what I saw he's had her in 'training' for awhile now."

House looked at him oddly, then smirked as only House can. "Just how long did you date this masochistic hottie?"

Chase gave him a disgusted look. "I'm glad I was able to corroborate Chloe's suspicions by observing the girl's reactions. The legal eagles didn't want to believe her. Now they do." Chase turned to go.

"Chase," began House, pausing, "watch your back." Chase turned his head just enough so House could see him nod.

House headed to Cuddy's office. Dr. Lisa Cuddy was House's boss and the Dean of Medicine at PPTH. A powerful position held by few women in the country. She was sure not to be happy about this situation and House was more than ready to rub it in.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Four**_

Lying behind her, his fingers trailed along her body from her hip to her neck. She shuddered slightly and let out a soft, appreciative moan. He gently nibbled at her neck, watching her wake from her peaceful slumber.

She hated to admit it, but she liked it here, in his arms. He smelled good, he felt good. He was an affectionate and gentle lover, with just enough of a wicked streak to keep things interesting.

Her eyes opened languidly and the first thing she saw was the digital alarm clock. "Oh my God! Why did you let me sleep so late?" She immediately jumped out of the bed and ran for the bathroom, hopping in the shower. He tried to catch her and pull her back, but missed. Sighing, he got up and followed her. "Oh, no you don't! The last thing I need is for House to think we've showered together… again! Out!"

"Allie, for heaven's sake, we're adults, who cares what House thinks?" He shook his head and started to brush his teeth.

"I just can't stand him looking at me the way he does! It's like he's always holding something over my head," she shouted over the rushing water. This was probably the fastest shower she'd ever taken. Quickly lathering her hair, she realized she hadn't brought her own shampoo and was afraid she'd smell like Chase. Oh, great, House is bound to spot it. She rinsed and climbed back out of the tub. "I've got to get going. I'll see you at work."

He grabbed her wrist and spun her back around to him, pulling her close. "Good morning, sunshine," he said as he kissed her.

"I'm sorry, Robbie, good morning!" She returned the kiss. Then she was gone.

He sighed again, wondering if this fellowship was ever going to end. He so wanted to get into the 'real' world and out from under his boss. After showering himself, he decided he'd dry his hair. Just to take some pressure off Allie.

Sometimes he just wanted to chuck it all and go home. Bloody Americans. But, really, there was no one at home anymore. There were times he felt like he was the only one left on the planet, lonely and alone. Just like he felt right now.

It was all of 8:55a.m. when Chase got to work, a bit rumpled in his khakis and blue oxford shirt, but presentable. Dr. Eric Foreman had been there for only a few minutes and Dr. Allison Cameron had arrived at 8:30a.m. which was thirty minutes later than usual. At this moment, she was rifling through House's mail.

"Good morning, my naughty penguins!" If House could have skipped into the conference room, they thought he just might have done.

"Finally get some you didn't have to pay for?" inquired Foreman, checking his watch, but not looking up from his newspaper.

Cameron was also glancing at her watch, surprised to see House in the hospital so, well, early, "Something going on we don't know about?" She asked, innocently enough. Chase also looked to his watch and noticed his tie was askew. House zeroed in on it,

"There's always something going on you don't know I know about. Wouldn't give you enough time to dress properly this morning, eh, Chase?" He passed a little too uncomfortably close behind Chase, headed for Cameron. Bending over, pretending to pay attention to the pile of mail on the desk, House took in the scent of Cameron's hair. "Ha! Just as I thought!" He gave them all one of his superior smirks and completed his journey to his office, closing the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" Foreman asked, raising his head. Cameron's face had flushed to almost the same shade of rose as her silk blouse.

Chase straightened his tie and mumbled, "Who knows?"

Foreman wasn't buying it. "Oh for crying out loud, are you two at it again? Please tell me you're keeping out of the hospital this time!" He rose, shaking his head, and walked over to the coffee maker. Dr. Eric Foreman took pride in his appearance and wearing his charcoal grey three piece suit he was a walking GQ cover, turning many a feminine head in the hospital and a few male heads, as well.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything the overhead P.A. system crackled to life, "Code Green, Third Floor West. Code Green, Third Floor West. Code Green, Third Floor West." Chase's eyes widened in surprise. He then bolted out of the room, headed for the nearest stairwell. Taking the stairs two to three steps at a time, he hoped he'd be able to get to Esi's room in time. He was sure the Security alert was concerning her.

House limped out of the office for a morning cuppa. "What's a Code Green?" He lazily inquired.

"Usually a violent patient or visitor gone berserk," replied Cameron, "but Chase just ran out of here like a scalded cat. I can't imagine…" Before she could finish her sentence, House was out the door as well. Foreman and Cameron looked at each other.

"I guess we should join the party?" Asked Foreman. They agreed and headed to the third floor.

_**Chapter Five**_

The commotion started just after the breakfast trays had been passed. Doctors were still making early morning rounds, families were either coming in to visit patients, or leaving after having spent the night with their loved ones. Ancillary personnel were bustling about, performing phlebotomies, x-raying patients and transporting other patients to and from different departments. Early morning surgical patients had left the floor about an hour earlier. In short, the third floor was as busy as usual.

Esi had been declared a 'no information' patient, which meant the staff was not to give out any information regarding her to anyone other than hospital personnel involved in her care. The staff was not even allowed to confirm or deny her presence.

Which is why antennae twitched when the tall, exceedingly handsome black man dressed in a very expensive suit and even more expensive shoes arrived on the floor asking for her by name.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but we do not have anyone by that name on this floor, might I direct you to the information desk in the lobby?" Susan Larson, one of Chloe's favorite young nurses, was consulting the computer and cheerily responding to his enquiries.

"Ah, yes, you see," he began in a beautifully lyrical Bahamian/British accent, "I've just come from there and they directed me here, you see my dilemma. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alexander Dagomba, Miss Dagomba's cousin from Ghana."

Susan smiled, maintaining a polite demeanor. "One moment, Sir, let me get my charge nurse, perhaps she can shed some light on the matter."

Susan rose and headed to Chloe's office. After hearing the news, Chloe picked up the phone and called Security. "Jean, we're not calling a code green, but you need to send a couple of guys up here, we might have a problem in the making. Thanks, hon." She left her office and shot a questioning look at Susan. "Where'd he go?"

At that moment a terrified scream came from the end of the hallway. Chloe called out to Jennifer, the unit secretary, "Call a Code Green, Now!" She then ran down the hall with several other staff members.

As they approached Esi's room, they were confronted by a terrifying sight. 'Alexander' had her by the neck, trying to strangle her. Esi spotted Chloe and suddenly began to fight for her life. She managed to twist away from him and slide out of the bed, running for the door.

Chloe positioned herself between Esi, who was cowering behind her against the wall, and the very angry man who had tried to claim her as a 'relative'. Speaking in forced calmness, Chloe was repeating a softly spoken mantra, "This child is not leaving this hospital with you or anyone else."

Security had responded to the code green en masse, spreading themselves out in the hallway, blocking his access to the elevators, hands ominously near their weapons. The older and larger member of the security team began to speak, "Sir, what seems to be the problem?" No one took their eyes off him.

'Alexander' bobbed to his right and turned, heading for the exit stairway. He didn't get far, connecting his jaw quite neatly with the fist of Dr. Robert Chase.

_**Chapter Six**_

"Ms. Marzhal, you're not the only one who has or who can make a connection with this girl. You need to let go of this for your own safety and let us do our jobs." The FBI agent, Special Agent Alan Michaelson, was speaking in low, soothing tones, with an undercurrent of finality.

Chloe hung her head, he was right. "I just hate the thought of abandoning her now."

When the Code Green was called early that morning, the Security department did two things. They responded with their well-practiced efficiency and they placed a call to the FBI. Within an hour, Special Agent Michaelson was onsite.

The ethical arguments had raged. On the one hand, Esi was not a United States citizen and therefore did not qualify for the federal witness protection program as such. On the other hand, she was the only one who had the information against Jason Adler the FBI had been craving for the past year and a half. They had lost two experienced field agents to Mr. Adler and didn't want to lose any more. Protecting their only witness was at the top of their to-do list.

Sending her back to Ghana was discussed in depth. It was pointed out that if she returned to her village without the education they were expecting that she might be shunned as having failed her family. On the other hand, they could contact the order of nuns which had taught Esi her English to see if they would be willing to take her in. This, it was thought, might place her in better standing with her family and the village elders.

None of this was discussed with Esi. No one had contacted her family yet. No one had contacted the Ghanaian Embassy. For the moment, Esi was in the care of Sister Augustine and the nuns at the St. Joseph the Worker Monastery (you might remember House's pet name for it). Chase had contacted Sr. Augustine and her Mother Superior asking if they could house Esi for a time. They were more than willing to take on the responsibility. Young Sr. Pius identified and loved Esi from the beginning and kept a close eye on her. While it wasn't home, Esi did feel comfortable and safe. Esi had a penchant for herb gardening, which made her a hit with the nuns in the kitchen.

The FBI had 'Alexander' in custody having already determined he wasn't who he claimed to be. That was a revelation to no one. However, they were having trouble identifying him at all. He didn't seem to be in the system. They were busy contacting the Bahamian authorities, hoping for some enlightenment. What was surprising, though, is that he hadn't requested a lawyer and Mr. Adler hadn't sent one. Interesting.

In the meantime, Chase was in the radiology department having his hand x-rayed to rule out a fifth metacarpal fracture, commonly known as a 'boxer's fracture'. His hand hurt, but he thought everyone was making too big a deal out of what was, in point of fact, a lucky punch. He'd been in worse matches than this, for heaven's sake! He suffered through it though, happy he'd been able to be of assistance.

"You're lucky," quipped House, gazing at the x-ray, "most pretty boys end up hurting themselves more than their opponent."

Chase shook his head. "A.) I'm from Australia, we learn how to take care of ourselves at an early age, and B.) I've been boxing since I was fifteen, I know how to take as well as give a decent blow, thank you." House recalled that Chase did take more than one blow well. Emotionally, physically as well as mentally. The fact that he was still House's fellow proved that if nothing else.

"The point being that you've placed yourself squarely in the middle of this thing. Now you've joined Chloe in the target club. I don't think Cuddy would approve of losing you to the witness protection program, such as it is." House screwed his face into something almost resembling concern.

"You're exaggerating as usual," Chase took the x-ray down and walked back into the conference room. "Can we get back to the patient we can't seem to diagnose?"

"Oh! Didn't you hear, we solved that puzzle without you, Ali. Treatment's already begun and is showing promise. Thanks for asking, though." House settled himself back in his chair and flipped on his music, turning it up loud. Chase looked with confusion at Foreman and Cameron.

"It's true. Turns out she had a rare genetic anomaly which wasn't brought to our attention until her grandmother showed up to visit and filled us in on the family medical history." Foreman shrugged his shoulders and returned to his newspaper.

Cameron took Chase's arm, "Let's go down to the clinic, we've got some hours due." They left with the sound of House's voice in their ears.

"No storage closets!"

Chloe sighed and clocked out. She had the next two days off and was glad of it. She needed time away from this mess. Opening the door of her apartment, she immediately realized that something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something…

"Good evening, Ms. Marzhal. It's such a pleasure to meet you again." She froze, how could she ever forget that voice?

"Jason," she located him in the corner of the room, "what can I do for you?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such lack of manners. I thought Lawrence did a better job with you, you always seemed so accomplished. It's too bad really." He was goading her.

"Lawrence was a good man. You know that and you killed him anyway." Her eyes were icy and heart just as cold.

"Oh my dear, you have no proof of that!" He was smiling.

"I'm not a court of law, Jason, I don't need evidentiary proof. I simply know." The last word was filled with malevolence. "You have invaded my home, I have every right to shoot you dead where you stand."

"With this?" He held her 9mm handgun in his outstretched hand. "Don't worry dear, I've unloaded it, this could be very dangerous in the hands of an untrained individual."

"What do you want?" Was her only reply

"What I want is to propose a bargain. Make a deal, if you will. A life hangs in the balance, perhaps several. You can prevent harm from coming to anyone. It's your choice, really."

"What is your proposition Jason?"

She listened.

"Think about it, will you and do let me know… soon?"

He left her shaken. She really needed to talk to someone. Problem was, she had no idea who would listen.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Seven**_

The insistent knock at the door startled Chloe. Who the hell… She looked through the peephole and wasn't sure if she was upset or relieved.

Breezing past her, House shuffled through the door handing Chloe a pizza and keeping the six pack to himself. "Sure, Gregory, come on in, delighted to have you, please, make yourself comfortable," muttered Chloe, not really sure why she bothered saying anything at all.

"Okay, Corporal, that was a cute demonstration this morning, but what, exactly, did you accomplish?" He had plopped down on her sofa, propped his feet up on the coffee table and popped open a beer taking a quaff.

"I saved the world for another day and made myself feel incredibly important in the process. Mind if I change clothes before this interrogation goes any further?" She didn't wait for an answer.

House could hear the shower spray and just couldn't help himself. Wandering into the bathroom, he was greeted by a sopping wet washcloth to the face. "Out, damned spot!" Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He went back to the sofa.

Chloe at least felt human again as she returned to the living room. She had pulled on her favorite red stretch pants and an overly large Hard Rock Cafe tee shirt.

"You know, those pink fuzzy bunny slippers are incredibly sexy, Clutter." Ignoring House, she sat down beside him and helped herself to the pizza, picking off the Italian sausage.

"Are you here to feed me or just needle me into some random act of violence against your person?"

"Actually, that's precisely why I'm here." Smiling broadly, deflecting her question. She simply waited. Sighing, House looked over at her, "You took an incredible risk for someone you don't know, I want to know why."

Chloe took a big bite of pizza and a drink of the Foster's. She drew out the suspense, knowing it drives him crazy. "Flip on the stereo, will you?" Was all she said.

"Don't you have anything good in here?" He had risen and was looking over her CD collection, whining. "Sorry, my Thelonious Monk is at the cleaners." He threw her a wicked look, choosing the Amy Winehouse.

"Haven't you ever done anything, anything at all for someone else, with no concern for your own interests?" She knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"No one does anything without a glance at their own self interest, haven't I taught you anything?"

She looked at the ceiling, "Other than how to annoy people in the most effective manner, no, I'm afraid not, Gregory."

She was still gazing at the ceiling. House leaned over towards her. "You're getting ready to do something else insanely altruistic, aren't you?"

She whispered, "I may not have a choice."

"Talk to me, Chloe." He actually sounded uneasy. Slowly munching on her pizza, she considered. "Jason Adler is what is known as a user, a true sadist. He doesn't care about the person he's with, just what he can get out of them. Only the truly out-there masochistic subs go anywhere near him. So he goes for the young ones, those who don't speak English well or are new to the States. Uses them and throws them away, permanently damaged. He's the worst kind of Dom. The community won't even recognize him and won't let him anywhere near them. In short, the man is a bully. And as we know, all bullies are cowards. Every last one of them."

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you're talking about S&M? And if so, how do you know so much about it? More importantly, why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"It's not funny, Gregory. People get hurt at the hands of the inexperienced or the incompetent, happens all the time in medicine, you know."

"But you're experienced and competent?"

"I'm not going to bore you with the details, Gregory."

"For God's sake, bore me!"

"Suffice it to say I had a good teacher. The best. And now he's dead. Jason Adler killed him."

"Why?"

"Because he wanted me and Larry wouldn't give me up. Luckily, Larry was as well-connected as Jason. I was protected."

"When did all this happen?"

"A long time ago, Gregory, a lifetime ago." Chloe stared up at the ceiling, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "Now I have to do whatever I can to rescue that girl and get the crosshairs moved away from Robert. I just have to figure out how to do it safely."

_**Chapter Eight**_

"Sometimes I just don't understand you," Cameron was a bit distraught, "how could you get into that kind of nonsense? It's so dangerous!"

"It was a long time ago Allie. We took all the precautions. She'd been in it for awhile and basically just walked me through what she wanted. We broke up because I didn't want to take it any further." Chase didn't like having to justify himself, "I'm not a pervert, you know."

"Burning someone doesn't qualify as a perversion? What did you get out of the deal?" She wasn't going to let this go.

"Great follow up sex, that's what I got out of it. It's all about the sex, Allie. Well, until you dig deeper and get into the vulnerability bit. Then it becomes metaphysical. But, the sex is still great. The inhibitions just disappear for both partners. Your mind and your heart open up in an amazing way." Chase took a bite of his spinach/cheese cannoli.

They were in their favorite Italian restaurant, Il Trovator, tucked into a little booth toward the back of the place. The ambience there was cozy and comforting. Red and white checkered tablecloths, candles in old wine jugs and Italian love songs playing softly in the background.

"OK, explain S&M to me." She was truly curious and a little put off by the whole thing.

Chase sighed, "First off, it's not just about S&M. There are layers, which is why we called it BDSM. BD for bondage/discipline, getting tied up and spanked for example, but that's only one example. DS for dominance/submission. That's where you get into the whole metaphysical thing. The submissive or bottom gives over their power to the dominant, allowing the dom to control all or a part of their life, either on a daily basis or only for the length of the scene they were acting out. The SM is usually not pronounced unless the pair or group wish it to be. There are so many variations, it's hard to put a single definition on it. For example, some high powered business people are into being submissives because it frees them from the decision-making they have to do on a daily basis. They give up their control for awhile. It helps them handle their stress levels."

"Wait, they want to be hurt or humiliated?" Cameron was skeptical.

"I know you've heard this before, but in most cases it's not about the pain. It's about trust and openness. If you can trust someone that deeply, it frees you somehow," He'd suddenly had a thought, "and, knowing that someone trusts you that completely can be mind-blowing in itself. You know, it's not too different from what we do every day. We inflict pain daily to diagnosis, treat and hopefully cure people. They trust us with their lives. That's humbling and you know it." He watched for her reaction.

"Well, I suppose," she drew out the last word, still a little confused. "Is this something you want to do with me?"

"Not unless you want me to. I have no intention of having you do something you don't feel comfortable doing." He sipped his red wine. "Allie, you need to eat something, your food's getting cold."

"But…" Cameron began.

"Can we just not talk about this anymore? You're upsetting yourself." Chase was really tired of the cross examination. They finished their meal and left the restaurant, deciding on a walk in the park before it got too dark.

Cameron was silent and Chase knew what she was thinking, knew she wouldn't let it go on her own. He gave up. "What is it you want to ask me, Allie?"

"What does all this have to do with you and this Chloe person? Where did you meet her? Were you involved with her, too?" She was finding all this hard to understand and was a bit jealous, no, not jealous, curious. Perhaps a little afraid.

Chase guided her to a nearby bench and they sat, watching the birds flit in and out of the branches of trees, the kids playing Frisbee catch with their dogs. "It's called 'playing', just so you know and no, I never played with Chloe. By the time I was introduced to all this, she was no longer active in the scene. Her Dom had died, she had chosen not to take another. She was asked to take the role of 'watcher', something like a spotter for a gym. She made sure the rules were followed, nothing was recorded, either video or audio, handled the clean up, that kind of thing. She also made sure the Doms didn't skimp on their sub's aftercare. She's big on that. In her cell, she's well-respected and admired."

"Aftercare?" Cameron asked.

"Think of aftercare as the cuddling after sex part of the 'play'. It's critically important to maintaining the trust of the sub. The Dom or Domme, in the case of a dominatrix, is responsible for bringing the sub back down, as it were, to reality, care for his or her wounds, if any, and generally reinforcing the idea that the sub is truly cared for, if not loved. Very often 'play' involves people who are not committed to each other in any other way except during 'scenes' or role-playing scenarios." Chase put his arm around Cameron in a protective-like gesture. "I met people who'd been together in the scene for years, yet outside of the community had no contact whatsoever. They kept coming back to the same person year after year for whatever emotional release they required. You can't be very judgmental of these people, Allie. There's an incredible amount of psychology involved, at the PhD level. These people know what they're doing and know what they want. That's why it's so scary when someone in the scene misuses his or her power."

"What role did you play in all this 'scene'?"

"I was what is called a switch. Dominant when she wanted it, submissive when she needed that. I got to see both sides. It was interesting to say the least." He chuckled, "I guess that's why I've been able to put up with House all these years." She looked at him, dumbfounded.

"Let me take you home, you look a little overwhelmed." They rose from the bench and started back to his car. She had a lot to think about and he'd decided it might be better to let her think alone.

_**Chapter Nine**_

Monday morning, the Diagnostics Department was in full battle mode. A fifty-five year old male patient had been seen in the ER, run through a gamut of tests and found to be a mystery. He had been admitted late Sunday night.

"55 year old male, only symptom: slurred speech. Differential diagnosis, people!" The game was on.

House quickly scribbled the ideas being thrown out by his team:

**CVA**

**Cranial nerve dysfunction**

**Parkinson's**

**Paralysis of the soft palate**

**Infection**

**Demyelination**

"What tests have been done so far?" Foreman queried.

"CT of the head is negative for clots or bleeds, though bleeds don't always show up on the CT," Cameron was reading the test results.

"CBC negative for anemia and infection. Electrolytes are normal, too," offered Chase.

"According to the ER physician, there's no weakness, headache, visual problems or ataxia," Foreman had a puzzled look on his face. "We're going to need more in-depth studies."

"Okay, Foreman, get an MRI of the head and neck and do an LP. Chase, set up a speech therapy evaluation to check for physical abnormalities and repeat the physical examination. Cameron, get a detailed medical history, see if there's anyone else in the family with speech or other neurological problems."

House watched as his team leave on their various errands. He wandered over to Wilson's office for a confab. Wilson was busy with a patient, so House had to find another outlet for his energy. He knew Chloe wasn't working today, so he couldn't annoy her. Who did that leave?

"House, get out of my office." Cuddy didn't even look up from her desk.

"But, mom, you haven't even heard what I have to say!" House whined, trying to look pathetic.

"I don't care what you have to say, go say it to someone else. Oh, I have an idea, since you're down here, why don't you do a couple of clinic hours? There, problem solved. Get out of my office." Her pen never stopped moving across the paperwork she was battling with.

"What do you know about the S&M scene here in Princeton?" He had made himself comfortable on Cuddy's office sofa.

That got her attention. "What?" She looked at him like he'd finally huffed that last can of spray paint. "What makes you think I know anything about, about that?"

"Hmmm, I take it from your response that you do know something." He was examining his fingernails.

"House, don't be an idiot. Why do you want to know? Thinking of opening your own dungeon?" Cuddy gave him an exasperated look. She realized she shouldn't have gotten into a conversation with him this early in the week.

"Just curious." He switched gears, always a sure fire method of wreaking havoc with Cuddy. "How'd the hospital make out with that human trafficking case last week?"

"Well, JCAHO called this morning to congratulate us on the catch… wait, what do you care?" House was already limping out the door, chuckling to himself. Chloe was right.

Wilson's patient had left and House flopped into the 'bad news' chair in front of his desk. "Tell me something Wilson. What makes you people so gung-ho about feeling other people's pain?"

"Who's 'you people'?" Questioned Wilson, a bit more confused than usual.

"You know, all you do-gooders, hand-holders, altruistic-types."

Wilson considered for a moment. "Not that you care, but we really get our rocks off helping to ease the pain of others. It's an orgasmic high you can't believe!"

House snorted. "I'll stick to the usual method, thank you." However, he was pulling at his lower lip, so Wilson knew something was behind the question.

"The usual method being Vicodin and hookers?" Wilson retorted, just to maintain the game. "What's really bothering you, House?"

"It's just not logical to walk into the teeth of the lion when you don't have to."

"Well, since I can assume it's not you we're talking about, who are we talking about?"

"Chloe."

"What's going on with Chloe?"

"She's getting ready to do something stupid… again. I've either got to help her or stop her, I don't know which."

"Help her? Uh, what's your motivation for helping her?"

House's eyes had wandered to Wilson's _Vertigo_ poster. "Actually, that would explain why she's never been afraid of me. Hmmm."

"Okay, you lost me, what are we talking about?"

House explained his conversation with Chloe over pizza and the peak into her past he had received.

"And you think she's going to do what exactly?" Wilson was intrigued by the revelation and at the same time, anxious.

House rose to leave. "Feed herself to the lions."

"House, you might want to be discreet with this information. This is the kind of thing nurses lose jobs and licenses over. Nursing boards still have terms like moral turpitude in their vocabularies. I'd hate to see Chloe being used as a scapegoat."

House left the office to seek out Chase. He found him in the speech therapy department. "Chase, got a minute you can spare away from your girlfriends down here?" Chase rolled his eyes at the pretty therapist he'd been talking to and approached House. They walked out into the hall. "If Chloe was going to do something stupid to save this Emily person from Jason Adler, how do you think she'd do it?"

"Esi."

"Huh?"

"Esi, her name is Esi."

"Whatever, answer the question."

Chase considered for a moment. "I don't know. There's a contract, she might try to buy it out, something like that. Knowing Adler, he wouldn't accept money, he'd want his pound of flesh." Chase was pleased at his literary reference and smiled.

"It's not funny. How would he exact this pound?"

"Well, it was rumored at one time that Adler wanted Chloe in the worst way and she wouldn't have anything to do with him. Pissed him off, as I understand it. So, he might want some kind of exchange, Chloe for Esi. Cripes, she's not thinking…"

"I'm afraid she is."

House would never understand people.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Ten**_

Back in the 'war room', the fellows had gathered with their various test results. They were all a bit confused. Everything was negative. Full chemistry panels and repeat CBC yielded no new information. Neither did the MRI or the LP, both were clean. The speech therapy eval showed no physical abnormalities which could explain the slurred speech. There were no difficulties swallowing, no problems with thought process or expression. The patient knew what he wanted to say and understood others, there was no aphasia. Chase had found nothing new on the physical exam. No neurological deficits of any kind. The only glimmer came from Cameron. Two uncles, a cousin and a grandparent, all male, had died early in their fifties of what had been labeled a stroke. All the females in the family were relatively healthy.

"Huh." Was House's only response. He returned to the white board, "So what does that leave us?"

**CVA**

**Cranial nerve dysfunction**

**Parkinson's**

**Paralysis of the soft palate**

**Infection**

**Demyelination**

"Aren't you going to cross out Infection?" Queried Cameron

"Lack of elevated WBCs has fooled us before," House responded almost absently. "Get the medical records of the family members that died of 'stroke', that's too much of a coincidence for my liking."

"That may be difficult in the case of the grandparents, especially. No one left to grant permission." Cameron stated.

"Check with legal, find a way!" House replied, still a bit absent. He was pulling at his lip now. The ducklings just watched him. "Well? What?"

"What are you thinking?" Foreman was looking at the white board. "If it's infection, what kind of infection shows up with no elevation in WBCs and no fever? He's not on steroids and shows no sign of immunosuppression. If it's demyelination, there are a slew of possibilities from ALS to Multiple Sclerosis. We need an EMG and an EEG."

House nodded his head, "Go. Double check the immunosuppression angle, make sure we're not dealing with HIV or anything else that would shut down his immune system."

Chase lingered at the conference table, a serious expression on his face. "You were right. I spoke with the 'leader' of the cell Chloe's been involved in. She is planning something, but he wouldn't tell me what. The good news is that whatever it is, it's going to play out on neutral territory, not in one of Adler's playgrounds."

"So, how does one dress in this little squash court?" House definitely had a plan, what it was, Chase couldn't imagine.

"Expensively," was Chase's reply. "The stronger the presence, the more expensive the garb. House, you're not planning on interfering are you?"

"No more than she is."

"Well, I can't imagine a more alpha Alpha male than you."

"I didn't know you cared."

"I don't, but Chloe will kill you if you try to stop her, she's an alpha female, you know."

"And in a wolf pack, only the alphas are allowed to mate." House dropped it at that. Chase gave him an odd look and left the room, headed for the clinic.

"Chase!" House called out after him, "Find out where this little shindig is supposed to take place if you can." Chase nodded and left.

House hopped on the internet for a little 'research'.

"What you're suggesting, Chloe is unorthodox, to say the least. It's been years since I recall a sub buying out another sub's contract." Arthur Johanssen was seated behind his massive oak desk located in his massive oak-lined law office. He chewed a little on his quite pleasantly scented cigar. Arthur was a cigar connoisseur. "How do you propose doing this?"

"The owner of this particular contract is a user, Arthur, he'll want meat. I'm prepared to give it to him, for this girl's sake." Chloe's words were full of venom.

"Tell me the story." Arthur pulled out a legal pad and began to take notes.

Chloe began at the beginning and told him everything about Esi and Jason Adler, including the FBI's involvement.

"Oh my God, you're going to take on Adler? Are you insane? He won't honor any agreement I can broker, you know that!"

"Arthur, Jason has for years craved recognition by the community, I'm betting he'd do anything to see that happen. He's just egotistical enough to believe we'd give him that recognition. He very well could let his guard down long enough. The tricky part is the timing. This has to happen just before the FBI nabs him. I may be able to arrange that, I'm not sure."

"Not many in the community will want to be witnesses to this transaction, Chloe."

"The Taken In Hand faction would be more than willing. All I need are three witnesses. His agreement to forsake the contract he made for Esi must be recorded, preferably by video. We've got to have that up front, or no deal."

"And you don't think he'll smell a trap?"

"I think, no, I know, he's just narcissistic enough to think no one could trap him into anything. That's what I'm betting on. He'll be so focused on humiliating me, he won't listen to reasonable counsel."

"Okay, Chloe, if you think this is the best solution."

"It's the only solution I can think of, Arthur. He's going to kill that girl and Dr. Chase and maybe even me if I don't agree with what he's proposed."

After a little more discussion and planning, Chloe left the office and headed to the local office of the FBI and Special Agent Michaelson.

"You want to do what?" Michaelson had thought he'd heard it all, but this was downright weird.

"Adler is, I'm sure, planning to leave the country as soon as he knows you have the contract. The only thing that will keep him here is his ego. He won't pass up this opportunity. He's an idiot."

Michaelson shook his head. They talked for a long time. Chloe rejected the idea of using recording equipment. Michaelson wanted to have an agent in the room to keep an eye on her.

"This is a tight-knit community, Special Agent, anyone not established with it will stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, there will only be five people in the room, everyone will be well-known to the others. You just need to be outside to grab him when he leaves the premises. I and my friends will take care of me. You can count on that. Then you can send Esi home to her parents."

"Damn, this is crazy. When are you planning this little outing?"

"Next Wednesday night."

_**Chapter Eleven**_

House had seen her leave the offices of Johanssen, Huess & Wojtyna, PLLC and when she left, he entered.

"Good day, sir, may I help you?" The receptionist was young and pretty, not the stodgy matron he had expected.

"Yes, I'm here to see whomever Chloe Marzhal was here to see just moments ago." House watched her face. She never flinched.

"One moment please, sir. If you'll have a seat, I'll see what I can do." He sat and she rose, turning to enter the inner offices. Her hips swayed ever so gently.

'Nice legs', thought House.

In a moment, Arthur Johanssen appeared, looking quizzically at House. "May I help you?"

House rose with the help of his cane, which Arthur noticed, and offered his hand. "I certainly hope so. House, Greg House."

Arthur shook his hand, "Mr. House, it's a…"

"Doctor, Dr. House," he interrupted.

"Ah, of course, I should have guessed. Please come into my office."

Chloe had spoken of House several times, but Arthur had never met him. He offered House a chair, then some refreshment.

"Scotch if you have it," was House's reply.

Arthur poured them both a glass of Glenfiddich and having handed one to House, took his seat behind his desk.

"Now, Dr. House, what can I do for you?"

"Chloe Marzhal just left here, I'm here to find out what you discussed." House took a sip of the very fine whiskey.

"I'm sure you can appreciate, Dr. House, that any communication I have with my client is confidential. I am prohibited from disclosing the nature of her visit."

"Chloe has something planned. She has not discussed it with me, nor has she requested my permission for whatever it is she about to do. I'm not happy about that. If she is contemplating breaking our agreement, I'd like to know about it."

Arthur was taken aback, "You are Chloe's…"

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't, none of this would concern me in the least otherwise. I'm sure you can appreciate that I am distressed at even having to be here." Everybody lies.

"Yes, I can imagine," Arthur stroked his chin. "Well, Dr. House, you are correct in your assumption that Chloe has something planned. However, leaving your service is not what she has in mind, although I'm sure she's taken the possibility that this might be destructive to your relationship into consideration." Arthur grinned, "she is a willful woman, that one. Always has been."

"Indeed. I will deal with that later. What can you tell me, Mr. Johanssen?"

Arthur discussed at length Chloe's plan to free Esi from Adler and avoid any harm coming to Dr. Chase. The two men then came to an agreement of their own.

"Understand, Johanssen, I will not tolerate his misuse of Chloe. Abrasions, cuts and bruises heal, however, there will be no exchange of body fluids. I will not have her permanently damaged. May I assume that the usual prohibitions will be in force? I believe I have a right to these demands."

"Yes, of course, no blood, no scat, no permanent markings or piercings. It will be as you wish, Dr. House, you certainly do have that right. I will make sure your wishes are respected."

"Thank you." House rose and left the office, a little shaken.

"Where the hell is House?" Chase was concerned and annoyed.

"Who knows, why? What's wrong?" Cameron inquired.

"All the tests for immunosuppression are negative." Foreman went to the white board and crossed out Infection.

"So that only leaves us Demyelination. What did the EMG and EEG show?" Chase asked.

"EEG is normal, but the EMG shows slight weakness in the right lower leg. This could be one of those odd X-chromosome mutations." Foreman's face had an intense look, then his eyes brightened. "We need a sural nerve biopsy!"

"Wait," said Cameron, "Are you talking about adrenoleukodystrophy? Doesn't that usually affect children? Have we checked his adrenal function?"

"Ever see Lorenzo's Oil?" House came ambling into the conference room, "It's your kind of flick, Cameron, lots of sniffing and nose-blowing."

Cameron rolled her eyes. "That's my point, doesn't X-ALD usually affect young boys?"

"Not as much as over-zealous seminarians," House snarked, pleased with himself. Chase threw him an evil look.

"Two to three percent of those with X-ALD are men in their forties or fifties. He may have been walking around with this for years and not even he knew he had a problem. Adrenal function studies may be perfectly normal." Foreman finished the thought.

"Exactly. Get the sural nerve biopsy. And check his adrenal function as well, might as well cover all the bases."

Foreman started to leave, then turned back. "We won't be able to offer this guy much if this is X-ALD you know."

"The diagnosis is the thing, says so on the door there." House quipped.

Foreman shook his head and left the room.

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Their bodies swayed every so gently in rhythm to the soft strains emitted from the stage. He loved the scent of her hair. Her arms were draped almost carelessly about his shoulders, her cheek pressed lightly against his.

This was the first time they'd had a chance to be alone in awhile and she wanted to go dancing. For some reason, she craved close contact but, at the same time she wanted to be somewhere public. Her mind and her emotions were a jumble and she didn't like that.

The small jazz club was his favorite. It was comfortably dark, you could barely see the person sitting next to you at your table, much less anyone else in the room. Everyone felt they were the only ones present. That's exactly how he felt at that moment, he and she were alone in the room. It was intoxicating.

His gentle touch slid effortless over the back of her silk dress. She sighed and nuzzled his neck. What did she want? Who did she want? Why was she always fighting for that which she couldn't have?

The trio slid naturally from one composition to another, the various couples on the dance floor barely registering the changes. He pulled her a little closer, if that was possible.

"What are you thinking, Allie?" He whispered into her hair.

"The physically improbable existentialism of life as we know it." She couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Don't mock me, you little devil." He gave her a squeeze.

She pulled her face away from his neck to look into his eyes. "I have no idea what I'm thinking. Thoughts just flit in and out and don't leave a trace."

"Well, here's another thought." He kissed her lips gently.

"I cannot lie," she murmured, "I like that thought."

He kissed her again, watching her eyes flutter shut. "Who are you kissing, Allie?" He whispered into her mouth.

"Well, his name is Robbie, but let me check my dance card." He kissed her again, teasing her lips with his tongue.

"Ah, yes, Robbie it is," she whispered.

He didn't believe her. Yet. He would continue the gentle prodding until he could, finally, know in his heart who it was she was kissing. It was painful, but he was sure he could get her to forget House, eventually.

"Let's get out of here, before I ravish you in front of all these witnesses." His voice had taken on a huskiness that excited her.

She took his hand and they left the club, headed for his blue BMW 650i. The last gift he'd had from his dad. That fact always made him sad. She sensed the drift and slid her arm around his waist, drawing him closer to her.

He smiled and hugged her back.

Just before they reached his car a voice came to them from out of the darkness. "Dr. Chase?"

They both stopped and looked around. Suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows and confronted the pair. Instinctively, Chase pulled Cameron around behind himself. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"My employer has asked me to give you a message, Dr. Chase. All will be well if you follow my instructions. Do you understand?" His voice was deep and menacing.

"I understand your employer is trying to frighten me." Chase's eyes darted about, assessing escape routes.

"Just so, Dr. Chase. You would be wise to heed my employer's message."

"Get on with it. What does he want?"

"My employer wishes you to withdraw from this investigation into his personal affairs. He is not happy with your involvement."

"I have no control over any investigation into Jason Adler's business. That is a matter for the authorities."

"Tsk, tsk, Dr. Chase. If it hadn't been for your phone call to certain parties, my employer wouldn't be in this unenviable position. He simply requests that you reconsider your testimony. I'm sure your friends would advise you to do the same. You wouldn't want harm to come to anyone, would you?" The menace had turned to venom.

"If you're threatening my friends, don't…" Just at that moment, Cameron screamed as she was pulled away from Chase by someone behind her.

Another man had crept up on the pair and now had Cameron by the throat. She struggled, grinding her heel into the man's instep and shoving her elbow into his ribs as hard as she could manage. It was enough to loosen his grip on her. Just as she was spinning away from her assailant, she caught a glimpse of Chase laying into the man with all his fury. Fists flying and a few nice round-house kicks thrown in for good measure had the attacker on the run in short order.

The first man had disappeared as a nearby car started up. Squealing rubber assaulted their ears as the second man piled into the vehicle. The automobile sped away into the night.

They were left in the street alone. "Oh my God, Robbie, are you alright?" Cameron was completely taken aback by what had happened. How could anyone threaten other people that way? It made no sense to her.

"What a couple of bumbling idiots!" Shouted Chase. Realizing that saying any more would upset Cameron, he left the thought dangling. "I'm alright, nothing a nice hot shower won't cure. Come here, tiger!" He grinned at Cameron. "Quite a few moves you've got there, girlfriend!" He hugged her close to him, aware of the near miss they'd just had. Those two could have killed them if they'd chosen to do so. No one else was about, and supposedly they were professionals.

What Cameron had witnessed was a little different. Chase couldn't see his own face, couldn't see the determination and resolve which had rarely needed expression. What had emerged was a man Cameron was seeing for the first time. He really did care about her. Cared enough to put himself in danger for her. She felt safer with him now than she ever had. For a moment, there was only Chase. She hugged him tight, burying her face in his shoulder.

Quickly leading her to his car, they left the area and headed for safety. In the morning, he would call the FBI and let them know what had happened. But not now, not tonight.

Tonight was for Allie.

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Cameron stared out the window of the car. The streets seemed so deserted, even the lampposts seemed dim. Her world was clouding over. The realization that she and Chase could have been badly hurt just now was ever so slowly dawning on her. Her Pollyanna world was collapsing. She started to cry.

Chase slowed the car. "Allie, what's wrong?"

She was shaking now. "My God, Robbie, we could have been killed, those men were, they were, oh my God!" She buried her head in her hands.

Chase pulled over. "No, no, don't stop 'til we get home! Please I want to go home!" He complied, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand.

When they finally reached Cameron's apartment, her weeping had calmed to a series of sniffles, but she was still in something of a shocked state. Chase helped her out of the car and into her home. He made sure all the doors and windows were locked and that no one was in the apartment that didn't belong. Cameron stood in the midst of her living room, just watching him. Then he returned to her, bearing two glasses of wine. He led her to the sofa and they sat, Chase closely watching her. The wine began to have its affect and she relaxed, finally laying her head on his shoulder.

"Allie, it'll be alright. No one's going to harm you."

"Robbie, don't leave me."

"I'll not leave you, Allie, I promise."

Soon their wine was gone but she still felt uneasy, as though something was missing. Something had been taken away. She wanted it back.

"Robbie, I need you."

He didn't have to ask why or what for. He stood turning to look at her. She seemed so small just then. Something primal swept over him. He reached down and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to where she would feel the safest, her bed. Laying her gently on the comforter, he kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket and lay down beside her, gathering her to him like a child.

She snuggled in close, inhaling his scent. There was nothing intellectual here, nothing quantifiable, nothing calculated. She just needed to feel alive again. She hadn't realized until now that he was the one who made her feel that way. Before she knew what was happening she had his shirt unbuttoned and was literally burying herself in his chest, licking and sucking with abandon, accompanied only by his soft moans of delight.

He let her take the lead, gently stroking and caressing, as he watched while she give herself over to basic need. She made quick work of his clothing, tasting every part as she revealed him bit by bit. With no thought for anything but the right here and the right now, Allison Cameron devoured the man she had once dismissed as a plaything.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. His passion matched hers as they tumbled through the dance, their cries of wanton lust filling the air. He held her tight and she held him tighter. Their hearts pounded against one another, speaking a language only lovers can hear.

"I love you, Allie." It was the last thing she heard as she melted into her dream-filled slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

"Mr. Klein, we've determined by the nerve biopsy we performed that you have what is known as adrenoleukodystrophy," Foreman began, noting the blank look the patient was giving him. "Adrenoleukodystrophy, or ALD, is a genetic defect of the X chromosome which leads to progressive demyelination of the…" He could see the man's eyes turn glassy. "What I'm trying to say is that you have a disease which is affecting your nervous system and slowly destroying it. It's probably been active for years without you even knowing it. It is progressive. There are treatments, but there is no cure." Foreman paused, watching the man and his family taking in what he just said.

"Is this like MS?" Asked Mrs. Klein. "My Aunt Bertha had MS."

"It's very similar, Mrs. Klein." Foreman replied gently, wondering if 'Aunt Bertha' had been a carrier of X-ALD. He knew that women were almost always carriers, rarely victims of the disease.

Foreman spent the rest of the afternoon outlining what the patient and family could expect symptom-wise and various treatment options. Unfortunately, Mr. Klein's case was advanced to the point at which not many of the options would be very helpful. A thorough family history revealed several other members of the family to be affected or carriers of the disorder, so bone marrow transplant was effectively ruled out. Foreman placed Mr. Klein on the bone marrow donor transplant list anyway, perhaps he'd get lucky.

"On the up side, you've got a hell of a paper you could publish out of this! You've discovered an entire family tree of this stuff." Sometimes Foreman absolutely hated House. He'd already thought of that and tried to tell himself he was too humane to benefit from an entire family's pain. One wedding in the family had already been called off, others in the family were contemplating permanent contraception. The Kleins had been hit hard.

House knew what was going through Foreman's mind. "If you don't publish, how is medical science ever to progress? All human pain benefits someone, even if it's only us. But hey, we're the ones who will be able to help the next Joe Blow who wanders in here!"

Foreman didn't realize what he'd done until he saw House sprawled out on the floor, his hand reaching up to assess whether his jaw had been broken. Foreman was shocked at his momentary lack of control. At the same time the ache in his fist felt great. He turned and left House's office without another word.

This was just one more example, he thought, of his slide into the black hole that was House. Or so he thought. It scared the hell out of him. Yeah, he was competitive, but he didn't want to lose what made him human. Or had he lost it already? He didn't want to be another House, embittered, spiteful, manipulative at all costs. Jesus, what was happening to him?

Somehow he found himself at Wilson's door. Foreman knocked, and hearing a cheerful 'Come in', did just that. He stood staring at Wilson, not quite sure what he was there for.

"Hey, Foreman, what can I do for you?" Wilson looked up from his seemingly endless supply of paperwork and caught the desperation in the other man's face. "Ah, another Great White House attack? Have a seat." He motioned to the comfortable chair in front of his desk.

Foreman sat. He didn't like heart-to-heart talks though he couldn't tell you why. They just seemed so cheesy. Life isn't solved in half-hour sitcoms. It just keeps dragging on an on.

Wilson sat patiently waiting for Foreman to say whatever it was he wanted to say. He'd learned early on to just be patient, eventually it all came tumbling out.

"I do not want to become House." A simple statement of fact, boiled down from the reams of manuscript whirling around in his head.

"Even House doesn't want to be House." Wilson soothed. Foreman looked up at him, perplexed. Wilson sighed, "House is the product of genetics and conditioning. His genetics make him brilliant, his conditioning makes him an ass. You do not share his background nor his life view. He would have you believe you are no better, or in his terms - as good as, he is. Don't let go of your humanity, it's what sets you apart from House and he knows it. He is simply forcing you to face it," Wilson's voice became almost a whisper, "perhaps even show him how it's done."

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

House wasn't sure how much more of this he could watch. This whole thing was insane. His death's head cane (he had snuck back and purchased it after all) tapped on the floor in front of him, in rhythm with the horror show going on just below him.

Just an hour ago, he had presented himself to the front door of this seemingly innocuous residence dressed in white tie and tails, complete with top hat and, of course, the cane. He had been accepted into the inner sanctum by the few gathered as Chloe's Dominant. She was not happy. She didn't know he had inserted himself into this scene and was forced by convention to show him the obescience his status as 'her Dominant' required. He was so going to pay for that.

He had enjoyed the display. Chloe dressed quite ridiculously in a leather corset, lace thong, black transparent skirt which hid nothing and those fantastic stiletto boots. He watched as she knelt before him, her feet tucked up neatly under that lovely ass of hers, her legs spread wide for easy access. She held her back straight displaying her nearly naked breasts, her head up, but her eyes averted downward. Her hands lay palm up on her thighs. Damn.

She had waited until he spoke. "It is my understanding that my sub is here to redeem the contract of one Esi Dagomba. Is that correct, my pet?"

Chloe began her slow descent into her safe place deep inside her head, just one level up from subspace. Subspace was that most wondrous of places where her mind would be free to touch the mind of the other. But House was not the other and she needed to guard her innermost self. "That is correct, Sir. It is what I wish." Her voice was deep and other-worldly.

House watched this transformation with intense interest. "Then, by all means, you must have it." He caught the facial expressions of the two men on either side of Arthur.

They were all seated behind a long table as observers. Their expressions belied disapproval. These two were members of the Taken In Hand faction of the cell. They did not cater to the notion of the sub exercising any control whatsoever in the relationship. There were no safety nets for them, no give and take. For them the woman was property and treated as one would treat a fine collection of wine or coins. Not that their women disapproved. In point of fact, this higher level of dominance was what they craved and would fight for if necessary.

"However, your recklessness will be addressed later. It is not my practice to allow such liberties," he studied his fingernails, "I believe you are aware of that."

Chloe nodded her head, "Yes, Sir, I am aware. This one thanks you for your indulgence."

That seemed to have mollified the two observers.

House then turned his attention to Jason Adler who was costumed just as ridiculously, he thought. Leather pants, boots. Only a leather vest covered his soft torso. Adler was becoming impatient. "You, Sir, are the owner of said contract, is that correct?"

Jason nodded his head in the affirmative.

"I have decided to allow this transfer to take place with the firm understanding that you acknowledge my sole ownership of this one," he motioned to Chloe, "this one who has pledged her entire being, body and soul to me and me alone." Chloe could barely hear him any more. He'd done his homework, she was glad of that much. "I will not tolerate any permanent damage to my submissive. You may do whatever you deem necessary to satisfy your sense of loss, but there will be no exchange of body fluids, is that understood?"

Jason was not happy. The one thing he craved more than anything was to rape the shit out of Chloe, make her scream in pain and degradation in retaliation for all the humiliation she'd put him through.

"Understood. However, I am permitted foreign objects, yes? The leadership has, I believe, assented to this point."

House was sick at this, but couldn't refuse. It was part of the game. He knew it and he knew Chloe knew it. He watched her slide further into her self-protective oblivion.

"Within reason, yes." The fierce blue eyes nearly cut Jason Adler in two with the intense hatred they spewed.

With that the video recorder was turned on and Jason Adler made a statement to the effect that in payment for the loss of his slave, Esi Dagomba, he was, with the permission of the cell leadership and Chloe's Dominant, entitled to four hours here in the darkness of the dungeon to exact whatever tribute he desired from her. He also agreed to abandon any thoughts or acts of retribution against Esi and Dr. Robert Chase. Chloe was recorded as assenting. Then the video recorder was clicked off.

Chloe bowed her forehead to the cool stone floor in front of House and slowly rose, turning to approach the observers. She knelt in front of them, each in turn, and lightly kissed the boot they offered. This was her thanksgiving for their presence as witnesses of the proceedings.

She then knelt at the feet of Adler and without looking up at him, offered her neck as a silent sacrifice.

The blow came suddenly and with a force that actually surprised everyone. Everyone except Chloe. She landed on her side, her mouth bleeding, her face burning. Slowly, she crawled back to Adler's feet and resumed her position. Her eyes were not quite glassy yet, she could hold her head up still.

"You've cost me a hell of a lot of money, you bitch. You will pay." He slapped the other side of her face just as ferociously. Again she crawled back to his feet and resumed her position of submission.

Adler grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her feet, spinning her around and shoving her towards the St. Andrew's Cross in the center of the room. He shackled her wrists and ankles to the device and ripped off her skirt, throwing it in the general direction of House. It fluttered to the floor almost in slow motion.

There was no warm up, no time spent in useless foreplay. Adler grabbed a four foot cane he'd had imported from Thailand and began applying it with tremendous force to the tender flesh exposed to him. The sounds of flexible wood meeting skin echoed across the chamber, filling each one present with thoughts best left in their heads.

The angry welts immediately appeared and overlapped as stroke upon stroke was applied with a vengeance. Chloe fought hard to keep from screaming, a task not easily accomplished. House fought the squirming he was afraid would give him away. Finally, Chloe could hold back no longer and an anguished cry left her throat. The tears began to fall.

Adler threw the cane to the floor and approached Chloe, taking out a long, thin blade from its sheath tucked in his pant leg. House rose. Arthur held up a hand to House, then addressed Adler. "Jason… caution." Adler turned to House with a viciously wicked grin on his face. "Don't worry, old man, no permanent damage."

With a flick of the wrist, Adler slipped the knife up under the laces of Chloe's corset and sliced them neatly in two. The garment slid effortlessly to the floor. The knife was sheathed. House resumed his seat.

Adler pressed himself against Chloe's back, his hands reaching around to molest her alabaster breasts. She would leave here bruised and battered, if nothing else, of that he was sure. His fingers dug into her flesh as he bit down hard into her shoulder, drawing blood. She screamed and he sighed in delight. Adler whispered in her ear, "That old man over there can never show you what I can, Chloe. He doesn't have the salt. But then, maybe you two deserve each other, you're an old bitch after all, aren't you? A withered up old cow. AREN"T YOU?" He was screaming at her. "Yes," she replied, "yes I am."

He bit down hard on her other shoulder, once again drawing blood. He licked at the blood as though he were thirsty and had been in the desert for a long time. It seemed to inebriate him somehow. He released her ankles from the St. Andrew's Cross, then her wrists. She could barely stand. Adler was not about to assist her, so Arthur called for two 'sluts' to enter the room and assist their sister.

The two women entered and, after deeply curtsying to each man in the room in turn, approached Chloe and lifted her off the stone floor. Adler directed them to seat her on the sawhorse at one end of the room. He shackled her aching wrists again and pulled her arms high above her head. Her toes barely touched the floor so that most of her weight was on her genitals. The wood of the sawhorse was finely sanded, but unfinished. It was not comfortable.

The two women were instructed by Arthur to assume positions on the floor behind him, in case they were needed again. They were not allowed to watch the proceedings.

Adler produced a multi-strand leather flogger and began to whip Chloe. He took special pains, as it were, to concentrate on her breasts and open legs. The leather bit into her soft skin. She was glad he hadn't removed the thong yet. Not that it afforded much protection, but it did act as something of a barrier to the hard wood under her. She tried hard not to squirm around as that only made the pressure on her vulva that much more terrific. The beating continued until he could sense that she was getting numb. That would not do.

Adler strode over to the corner and grabbed a bucket of water he had placed there earlier. He splashed the ice cold water at Chloe to bring back any sensation she had lost to the beating. The cold water shocked her and she very nearly fainted. But her body was alive again, her nipples hard as pebbles and her entire being shivered.

He switched to a riding crop and brought it down mercilessly against those sensitive nipples. The smacking and popping sounds mingled with her grunts and cries. He worked over her entire body, once again creating angry red slash marks. Some bled slightly, some did not. He didn't care. He was going to make her scream if it was the last thing he did on this earth.

Walking around behind, Adler slowly slid the sawhorse out from under her. Her body was covered with sweat which beaded along her brow and dripped, stinging, into her eyes. She was just able to make out the form of House seated across the room. He had his best poker face on, but she knew this was nauseating to him. She hung her head, wishing for all the world he wasn't so damned stubborn. But, then again, isn't that why she was here?

The wooden paddle came down hard on her already reddened ass. The sting was almost unbearable. Adler laid into her with all his might until he heard one of the things he'd been waiting to hear. "Stop, please, stop!" Chloe cried out. He stopped, maneuvering himself in front of her. His erection was plainly visible to all and he pressed it hard against Chloe's belly. He reached around her grabbing her ass cheeks and kneading them roughly. She groaned and begged him again to stop. Once more the stiletto dagger came out of its sheath and he made quick work of her black lace thong. "That's been on there far too long!" He breathed into her ear.

The cool air whispered around her swollen labia, offering comfort and, had it been the right occasion and the right person, arousal. But it wasn't and Chloe willed herself to feel nothing. Adler applied a spreader bar to Chloe's ankles, which spread her legs wide apart. Her feet were flat on the floor, but her balance was off and a great deal of her weight was being supported by her wrists.

Adler dug in his bag and produced probably the biggest and most horrendous looking dildo Chloe had ever seen. He also proceeded to remove a butt plug from the bag. Now things would get ugly.

He approached her with a leer any pedophile would recognize and walked around behind her. Without so much as a 'by your leave' he slammed the plug into her vagina to lubricate it, then shoved it home into her tight anal orifice. She screamed and tried desperately to relax. The burn filled her belly and streaked down her legs. Adler laughed out loud. "That's how I treat bitches who piss me off!" He hissed into her ear.

He then found a gag he liked. It was in the shape of a large penis and about two inches long. He shoved it in her mouth and secured it around her head with the attached leather straps. She knew she would have to concentrate on breathing now, trying very hard not to allow her nose to become occluded.

Then he began his task. The dildo was rammed into her vagina with force and speed. He used all his strength to force it into her as far as it would go, then remove it an insert it again. He pulled his own penis out of his pants and began to rub himself with his free hand. Arthur immediately stopped him. "Jason… remember your agreement." Adler demanded the 'sluts' service him and Arthur agreed. The two women fell about their task with gusto, licking and sucking until finally Adler shot his load all over their faces. He turned back to Chloe and slapped her several times across the face.

"Thirty minutes, Jason." Came the voice of Arthur. House was thinking it couldn't end soon enough. He'd had all he could stand of this 'lifestyle'.

Adler barely acknowledged Arthur as he busied himself pinching various parts of Chloe's body with clothespins. Her nipples, tongue, labia and even her clit. He then spent the next twenty minutes beating Chloe with whatever he could lay his hands on.

Tears streaked down her face, her body was lined with the marks of his fury. Sweat trickled to the floor. Finally he had spent himself. "Time." Arthur stated rather flatly. The two women were once again summoned to release Chloe from her confinement and take her to an adjoining room.

Adler put away his 'kit' and prepared to leave. As he turned around, he was faced with the specter of a man at least a half a foot taller and quite angry. House took a step closer to him and he backed up. Another step forward, another step back. Adler's face collapsed in fear. House never said a word, merely let his body language speak the volumes he dared not allow himself. Finally, House placed the skull end of his cane in the middle of Adler's chest and gave him one final push. Adler stepped back and stumbled over the bucket that had held the water he had splashed over Chloe.

House turned and left the building. No one assisted Adler to his feet.

Outside the house, three FBI agents waited for Jason Adler to exit. Alexander had finally decided to help himself and had corroborated all the evidence they already had on Adler.

In the basement, Chloe's friends tenderly administered the care she needed. She would remain there for two days, alternating between a dream world and the pain of reality. She had done what she felt she had to do and was satisfied.

House prowled his surroundings, alternating himself between anger and anguish. Chloe was too smart for this nonsense. He wasn't sure how or what he felt other than outraged. He wasn't even sure who he was most angry with, Adler or Chloe.

Things would never be the same between them.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

Six weeks later, all seemed to have returned to normal. House and the ducklings continued with their investigative work, rivaling the best TV dramas. Chase and Cameron had moved past the giggling, ogling stage and seemed to have settled into a loving relationship.

House avoided one and all as much as he could. Especially Chloe. He just didn't know what to say to her anymore. He knew more about her than he ever cared to, if he ever cared, and he didn't like what he knew. He simply didn't want to think about it.

Chloe had returned to her usual schedule of work, sleep and her weekly visits to the nursing home. She felt she'd lost a good friend. It was always that way. She wasn't even in the scene anymore, yet it had cost her something special. She didn't like herself much these days.

Jason Adler on the other hand, was sitting in a cushy federal prison, surrounded by people who were just dying to learn from him. He, of course loved the attention. He began collecting information on a series of rapes which was occurring up and down the eastern seaboard. A bit of trivia he might be able to use someday. Information was always a good thing to amass.

One Wednesday afternoon, Chase found himself in the cafeteria alone. He collected and paid for his food, looked around and, to his surprise, saw Chloe eating her own lunch. He decided to join her.

"May I?" He began.

"Sure, have a seat." She was contentedly munching on her sandwich.

"How are you, Chloe, I haven't seen you for quite some time."

"I'm fine, Robert. All is well. Esi has returned to her home in Ghana and the nuns here are keeping in touch with her. I sent her a letter the other day. Hopefully, she'll write back. Sister Pius says he sounds happy."

"I'm glad to hear it." Chase noticed that Chloe seemed sad. "How are you, really, Chloe?"

She smiled. "Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Robert. It will do you no good. I did what I thought was right. Being an adult is all about making decisions, then living with the consequences of those decisions. I simply have to live with mine. It's not always easy or fun, but there it is." She shrugged.

"Can anyone join this little love fest?" Chloe was shocked to see House standing at her elbow.

"Of course, Gregory, make yourself comfortable."

"Nah, might get arrested in this state."

Chase shook his head, but laughed just the same, as did Chloe.

House slid in beside Chloe. "So, Chuckles, what are you doing here in the middle of the day. I thought your kind shriveled up and died in the sunlight." House was actually smiling at her as opposed to laughing at her.

"Hospital-wide in-service. Been here all morning learning about all the various ways a patient can get hurt and blame it on me. Love that sort of stuff, so intellectually challenging." She rolled her eyes.

Chase's beeper chose that moment to go off. He glanced at the message and smiled, then excused himself. "Clinic crisis, gotta go!"

House and Chloe watched him leave. Neither one believed the excuse. They both smiled.

"So, Chlamydia, how are you?"

"You care?"

"No, it just seemed the polite thing to say."

"Since when do you do the polite thing? Come on Gregory, what's really on your mind? Quit fooling around and get to the point."

"Okay. What the hell possessed you to put yourself through that ordeal anyway? Did you really think some stupid video recording would actually save someone's life?"

"Translation: I was shocked and appalled at what I saw that night. It made me re-evaluate my opinion of you. I don't think I like you much anymore. You've shown me a side of you that I find unappetizing to say the least."

He furrowed his brow. "You need a new House-English dictionary."

"I did what you always do… the right thing. Sometimes it takes forms that are ugly or painful. In this case, I chose to do what I knew Adler would fall for. He was true to form and everything ended as it should. You had no business being there. I'm sorry you don't like me much anymore, I have to admit, that truly saddens me. I told you once that losing your friendship would upset me and it has. I'm sorry about that. Perhaps it was a bit melodramatic, but I still think I did the right thing and would do it again."

Her appetite was gone. She watched the gears turn in his head.

His voice had lost the hard edge it usually has, "I don't dislike you, Chloe. I thought I knew you, thought I had you figured out. You keep throwing me curve balls. I'll be wondering what you're thinking from now on. I won't be able to depend on my radar, because it's obviously broken when it comes to you."

"Well, I'm glad I'm able to keep you guessing."

He could see the sadness hadn't left her eyes. "You haven't lost my friendship." He reached into her lap and squeezed her hand. "Just keep the whips and chains in the closet where they belong, okay?"

She nodded her head, still feeling a sense of loss.

"Hey, I have tickets to a play."

"You only take women to plays if you want to see them naked."

His wiggling eyebrows was his only response.

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Normally, he would want to be aggressive at this point. Assert his masculinity on his intended. He could tell she was ready, waiting. However, this time was different. He was going to try to turn the tables on her, do the unexpected. He hoped he could actually pull it off. It took everything he had not to ravage her right then and there, she was so inviting, her scent so primal. Instead, he held back, nibbled instead of bit, lightly stroked instead of fondling, ignored her open legs, concentrating instead on her open mouth. He rained kisses on her face, her neck, her breasts. His hands were everywhere at once and nowhere in particular.

Her body was in a purgatory of need. She ached for him. This wanton teasing was driving her to distraction. 'Just fuck me already!' her brain was screaming. The part of her brain that could still think, that is. She quivered in uncontrollable lust as she watched him torture her slowly, methodically. The man was pure evil. He was holding back and it was making her wild with anticipation. Every stroke, every touch was bringing her closer to the edge.

His eyes brightened and a smile spread across his face as he watched her finally succumb to his ministrations. Her back arched upward, a silent scream on her lips. He was no where near her clitoris, in fact, his hand was lazily draped across her belly. Her orgasm came entirely from within her mind, her emotions simply took over her body. He had done it! Brought her to the brink of insanity without ever penetrating her physically. Heady stuff, that. He waited until her breathing resumed something akin to normal, watched as she buried her face in his chest. Only then did he release himself upon her.

He quickly mounted his firebrand, finally acknowledging her begging core. Swiftly he entered her, intent on bringing her even more sensory overload. His mouth devoured hers, whatever sounds she would make, he would swallow whole. Her arms and legs clamped down around him, fully intent on never letting go. He filled her, completed her, possessed her. Her mind faded, then utterly disappeared, her body screamed and shook its approval, cried out for more. He happily complied, holding her as close to him as was humanly possible, never once allowing anything to come between them, not even a thought.

He broke the grip on her mouth just long enough to hear her call out his name, just long enough to whisper hers. His body shuddered as they simultaneously splintered into the molten lake that was her bed. Time and reality had flown away, nothing was left but their panting bodies, their quivering limbs, their spent energies.

She had touched his mind, of that she was sure. And it was good.

He had touched her soul, of that he was certain. And it was beautiful.

The morning light trickled through the window and found them entangled in an embrace neither ever wanted to break. It was just too good.

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

Too good to last for long.

Trees whispered together in small groups, telling tales out of school, watching the passersby hurry on never knowing they were being observed. The cooling air crept by the ankles promising firewood and candlelight. Sunlight penetrated cloud, playing hide and seek with shadows. If you listened closely you could hear the approach of winter. The heat of springtime was cooling, gently slipping away into the clutches of hibernation. It was always a sad time, a time of loss. Greens, yellows, blues and pinks drained away into grey.

That's how he felt as he stared out the window. Drained away. The best of his life was gone, taken from him or thrown away by him, it didn't matter. It was gone. There were sparks now and then, but no fire would ever be re-lit. He knew that, yet he wished it could be otherwise. Though he didn't know how he would function were things any different. He'd pushed people away for so long, there simply wasn't any incentive to pull them back. Who would want to return? Why would they? He was incapable of sympathy and only barely aware of empathy. His life was so black and white – there was only the deepest of thoughts or the most frivolous of actions. He was the walking epitome of the All or Nothing Law.

She was the only one who didn't want anything from him. And now it was time to push her away, too. He'd revealed too much. She'd reached in and touched him. That wouldn't do. How could he be different, special, if someone actually understood him?

Chloe woke to that look in House's eyes and she knew immediately it was time for him to go. No fuss, no bother, just a quiet exit. They both had what they needed from each other and that would have to do them for awhile.

He gathered his things, showered and left. She watched him from her window, mourning his experiences, his choices, his life. Her own choices hadn't been that stellar. She knew why Jimmy never abandoned him, knew she never would either. Chloe just couldn't let hope die. Life sucks.

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

Chloe was not a happy camper. She'd received a note from her nurse manager to stay over Monday morning after her shift ended for a meeting with administration, specifically the Vice President of Patient Care Services (aka the Director of Nurses). Meetings like this were never pleasant and she was in quite a paranoid frame of mind.

Their royal highnesses showed up at about 9:30a.m., 2½ hours after her shift ended. They were lucky Chloe wasn't fast asleep already. Her nurse manager, the VPPC and Chloe withdrew to the conference room which was a little larger than the converted closet which was her office.

After the forced pleasantries, the VPPC got down to brass tacks. "We understand you had a very interesting case recently regarding human trafficking. I'll get right to the point. We'd like to write this up for one of the nursing journals. However," she paused, "upon reviewing your personnel file, we find you only have an Associates Degree in Nursing."

Chloe's back was up to begin with and this snide little remark was enough to push her over the edge. "Is there a problem with my educational qualifications?"

"Well," the VPPC stated, rather condescendingly, "it's just that we have a reputation to uphold here at PPTH. As a teaching hospital, it simply looks awkward to have a charge nurse with only an entry level degree submitting articles to journals."

"Then I would suggest, with all due respect, you have someone else write the article. Yourself, perhaps?"

Chloe's nurse manager tried to calm the escalating conversation. "Chloe, no one is saying you are not a qualified and competent nurse…"

"What precisely are you saying, then? I've been practicing nursing longer than both of you combined, please do not insult my intelligence by flouting your BSNs or MSNs in my face."

"I'm saying," continued the VPPC, "that Dr. Chase has been asked to write up this particular incident for the New England Journal of Medicine as part of their ongoing series on regulatory successes. We want the Nursing Department recognized as well. We're concerned that as a teaching hospital, not all of our nurses are availing themselves of the opportunities we offer."

"Not all nurses believe that university degrees create better or even competent nurses. If my thirty years experience isn't good enough for you, then perhaps you should have someone else write the article and spare yourself the embarrassment."

"I'm glad you agree. I will expect you to offer your insights into this case to whomever we do choose to collaborate with Dr. Chase, as well as to whomever we choose to write the nursing journal article. As always, Chloe, we are pleased and proud to have nurses like you in our employ and hope you continue the hard work you've given to our patients."

Chloe did not rise or shake hands. Her nurse manager shot her a worried look as she escorted the VPPC out of the conference room.

Chloe picked up the phone and called Human Resources to check her longevity status and possible retirement dates. She always knew this day would come and she knew it would all boil down to her obstinate refusal to get her bachelor's or master's degree in nursing.

Then she wrote her resignation letter. On her way off the floor, she slid the letter under the door of her nurse manager's office.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Twenty**_

Dr. Chase was really upset when he found out about her resignation. He had gone ahead and written the article for the NEJM, including a glowing tribute to the intuition and compassion of a certain Chloe Marzhal, RN. He didn't have to do that, but it pleased her that he did. The nursing department had sent in their version of the story to Nursing2007. Her name didn't appear at all and only one vague reference to 'the night charge nurse' was made.

"Robert, dear, I've been doing this for," she glanced at the calendar, "thirty-one years this month! I'm tired. I'm tired of the bullshit, I'm tired of every third patient being a drug seeking addict, I'm tired of the politics. I'm just tired."

Chase was desperately trying to talk her out of retiring.

"I want to go out and take dance lessons, I want to write the great American novel, I want to teach inner city kids how to crochet at the Boys and Girls Club. I want to do something that either makes me happy or garners me some sort of grateful appreciation from others. I'm sick of emptying bedpans and cleaning up other people's messes."

"Maybe you could help us in Diagnostics!" He became quite animated. "Cameron is getting really tired of going through House's mail, we could definitely use somebody who understands medical terminology…"

She cut him off, "Robert, going from a nurse to a secretary is not my idea of fun. Besides, working with House that closely day in and day out would simply lead to another shooting incident. He and I understand each other, let's just leave it at that, shall we."

Chase gave up. He hugged her tight, shook her hand and gave her his card with his home phone number and email address on the back. "Please keep in touch."

"Write down your birthday and I will." She smiled and patted his cheek.

Esi Dagomba stood in her little room in the convent and read the letter that had been delivered from such a long way away. The nurse with the kind eyes had written to her, wanting to know how and what she was doing. The letter was filled with descriptions of the hospital where they had treated Esi so well, jokes and a few pictures. Esi liked the pictures the best. Dr. Chase was so friendly and kind. The social worker, Bettye Martindale with her funny pink glasses and of course, Nurse Chloe. Esi had decided she wanted to be a nurse, too and the nuns near her village were sending her to school. Her family was proud of her and she was grateful they never had to know what she'd been through.

"Where's Chloe?"

"This is her last night, you'd think she'd be here early."

"She knows we're having a party for her, doesn't she?"

It was 6:30p.m. and the staff on the third floor were fidgeting. The cake was fantastic, Jennifer had made it from scratch. Everyone had brought a little something for the retirement bash they had planned for her. Banners and ribbons bedecked the nurses station. They had all pitched in and bought her a beautiful pair of sterling silver earrings, her favorites. They were so excited.

Earlier that morning, Chloe had experienced car trouble on her way home from work. 'Blasted cars!' Luckily she managed to get it to her favorite mechanic and left it there for him to work on. One of his flunkies drove her home. They were good to her like that. But, that had meant she had to get up earlier than usual and take the bus to work. The bus was notoriously slow and she was afraid she'd be late for her last night at work. What were they going to do? Fire her? Ha!

She was glad to be getting out of this hamster cage. Chuckling to herself, she entered the backside of the hospital and made her way to the all-but-forgotten freight elevators. Just as the elevator door opened, she felt a blow to the back of her neck and a tremendous burning in her shoulder. Then all went black.

"Adler, you got a phone call!"

Jason Adler rose from the table where he was engrossed in an interesting card game and proceeded to the bank of payphones against the back wall of the recreation room.

"Adler."

"I see."

"Well done, thank you."

He returned to his table, laughing his ass off. That would show her who was boss. To hell with that Dom of hers! It had never occurred to him that he was the patsy in that little drama. It never occurred to him that she would live through the night.

**END**

_Agnus Dei qui tollis peccáta mundi, miserére nobis_

_(Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us)_


End file.
